Tag Archive | Deep alienation

Friday’s Anguish

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The tipping point, on the weekly circuit of emotions. The gate has well and truly closed on the open field of youth. The gates into rites-of-passage-adulthood (property ownership -household, marriage? – as a substitute to the foreclosed horizons of a world beyond work/consume/die) neither entice me or let me in. Every time I look through its window it smiles whilst telling me to fuck off.

Yesterday was Thursday. Thursday evening is the time of the optimist if there ever is such a time. And there is, whilst-ever we remain under the clock of capital. I’m an optimist. I’m too optimistic to forget to forget. And I have become crippled because I’m forever looking for a way out. I can’t, just fucking can’t, accept it. Stubborn bastard that I am, trying every doorway except the ones I’ve been told to open.

So why does Friday always fuck me over? “The end of the working week!”. Maybe I took that too literally? The ending? Yeah, I’m up for that! So I set out across the hallowed avenues and urban hallways of my nearby towns and cities. But as my eagle eyes pick up not a way forward,  but the crush and compression of Now, quick fixes rush through my mind like a stampede of life trying to exit a burning room.”Northern Powerhouse?” Go fuck yourself, that should have meant something – if the future had actually arrived. But you stole that and sold us it back. And right now, not one of your new trendy cafes or real beer pubs can be anything more than a more socially acceptable plaster over a scar than that of those emaciated street drinkers, who increase in numbers in tear-jerking numbers around here.

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I’m a badly beaten optimist. I should be able to stand proud with these bruises. But it just gets me so fucking wound up, that I just end up looking for the nearest pub (mirror view of ‘drinkers face’ like watching a collision course with premature old age, in slow motion).

What was once an itch I have scratched into a permanent scar.

My no-year resolution has been to stop cursing others even if they almost literally push my esteem-drained body out of the way within the eternal rush hour.

I told myself to break a leg, and look for love. To give it that chance you never fucking dared giving it when there still seemed liked there was all to play for. To see if such emotions can be prised out of the interlocked catacombs where they roam up and down until they finally die of exhaustion. I told myself to take risks: say yes to silly escapades into the foreclosed future – because that foreclosed future may turn out to be far from what I expected.

I told myself all the things. I’ve told myself these things every day. But then there is Friday. Or more specifically Friday teatime, when that jaw-bridge on potential lifts up. That ‘new Dawn fades’ onto a another fucked up state. Rounded off with dead end binge drinking in my home town. I need that guide, with its (his or hers) hand to lead me quickly out of the circuitry of the ever-decreasing Dismaland.

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It’s an invisible consolation, when I realise I still have heart, as I feel it break in two as my longing gaze lands on the injustice of a broken army of innocents left to sleep in the streets of possibly the coldest night of the year.

Maybe I should also take consolation in the fact that my anguish is in fact indicative of the fact that I will never stop caring and hoping for something better than this.

Friday is the crusher. But as far as things stand I have always got back on my feet again. The fact that I get back on the same two feet to enter the same old crusher seems illogical to most. But maybe it’s time to take pride in my stubbornness.

….and I’m STILL currently listening to Under The Script Bridge by The Chameleons

Globalsapiens – a virtual tour

This was an exhibition buzzing with ideas. Hopefully will get to return to some of them again one day.
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GLOBALSAPIENS

Globalsapiens: an introduction to Parallel Paranoia, Humans In Cages and Silently Chained – the respective alternate names for artistic collective Mikk Murray, John Ledger and Jade Morris. Each artist has, at some point in life, stumbled across these titles and found them poetically fitting descriptions of their own predicament as young adults in the 21st century: tied to lifestyles that they know are destructive to the planet and most often self-destructive; struggling forwards from this, trying to find cracks in a hegemonic social landscape that drags humans toward an ultimate battle with nature that we are certain to lose.

Thus this show cannot be a means to an end for Globalsapiens: it has to be the start not the end; one of many ‘atoms for peace’, clustering together, always growing never standing still, until their shout is big enough to make one final stand against a world ruled by money. This exhibition aims to resonate with all those who care but feel trapped and helpless to make a change, and possibly then inspire them to believe that they need not feel trapped and helpless.

WHY GLOBALSAPIEN?

As a society, our actions, our expressions, our reactions, all show signs that we are aware of living in end times. Make no bones about it; no matter how much we talk about getting married, getting a house, settling down, we reek of a dying civilisation.

This exhaustion of everything in our merry-go-round swap between being the exploiter to the exploited has to end. Nobody can predict what ‘end’ we can expect, but we can guess what the prolongation of this current manmade nightmare will lead to. But we can also guess and hope; to hope that “surely this can’t be the end of the human story just yet…!” Grim resignation is dangerous; hope generates possibilities – but hope is sometimes hard for one to maintain.

Globalsapiens are artist’s who are desperately trying to find a way forward into a future worth living in. Our instinct is to express – we may not be the most pragmatic/practical people, but our contribution is a desperate attempt to realise a new way of living for the sake of the human race (sound self righteous? No: all species battle to maintain their existence). The time is right. Artists have no future in this old world, they must end their post idealist malaise/capitulation to the business mentality and join the cause to act now to make a future worth living in.

We felt aligned by a feeling that our artwork seems too driven, and too realmerely to be for exhibitions only – which often seem to just castrate it and make it nothing but mere consumer spectacle. This is a pressing concern that is played out within the show: we know that this is all our works may be, but we are still often driven by a powerful dream-boat of blind optimism that refers to the opposite, and seems to be generated by the ideological coding of the very system we are trying to help unwire. We want to help pave a way out of this bleak place our species (and the planet it has dragged down with it) has stumbled into, but we too often get too trapped in our minds to be/or do anything but what the system would happily have us be/doing – what keeps it thriving off human day-dreams and desires.

Nobody is in any place to preach. To resonate with others to generate in others. To alienate is to disintegrate. Let’s take the No Them, Only Us belief seriously again.

Human beings offer fundamentally special qualities to life on planet earth, and wherever else life may flourish. However, we are not better than the rest of life; if we were better we wouldn’t need it; but strip the life away from under our feet and we’d be dead before you could say the words ‘Easter Island’. Nevertheless, this is what out species is currently doing. But to say that we are a species of existential contradictions is to give up without even trying, and to let the idea of perpetual profiteering drag our eyes to the grey floor, where we watch our feet take one step at a time, in a potentially lethal small-world view. This exhibition wishes to contribute to the voices of reason in this time of collective insanity.

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Inside Humans In Cages’ isolated cell

Humans In Cages is feeling a little trapped, and without a vision of the future at present.”“The weekly ASDA shop likes this”

“The capitalist system still advances across the face of the planet, destroying the world that we depend on to survive, and pressing the boot further and further into our faces, as freedom/democracy become obstacles stood in the way which must also be destroyed. But here I languish; informed but passive; not knowing which foot to put in front of the other; so letting faint hopes of something better do the walking for me.

Here in my cell there will constantly remain the doubt that my artworks/artist shows may end up as nothing more than self-profiling within the capitalist dictatorship of individualism; the fetishisation of the self in the forced-competition of status advancement, based on the ultimatum of prosperity and a terror of failure. Thus, everything I have done within my isolated little world sometimes feels so counterproductive: that the truth may be that I am simply bolstering the realism of a system my work fundamentally opposes in its messages, by seeking recognition, and respect from it, for my individual endeavours.

 The cell contains the informed but passive self, critical but tangled in a knot of unwillingness and inability to step out of the capitalist version of reality. Most of the time I see no light at the end of the tunnel, and it has been said by many contemporary thinkers that ‘it is easier to imagine the end of the world than it is the end of capitalism’. But, now and again, there is a glimmer of something outside the cell; a crack through the screen of this ever-deteriorating normality.
 
Outside the cell, you will find traces of both what once was but was sectioned and boxed away, and what still just might have a possibility of re-emerging. A creativity that has no means to an end, but is perpetual/part of something moving. Even the creation of the videos in this exhibition reminded me of the act of being healthily spontaneously creative before the pressures of business objectives, and wage necessities in the latter and post-education years constrained me to (if I’m not careful) an ever-tightening ‘specialisation’, which could be described as an alienated endeavour, with the opinion of how the world will rate me amongst others always harpooning genuine concerns in my mind.
 
But this is only one side of the truth. The other side being that making these art works has been the most accessible and direct way of expressing concerns and wants for something massively more than just a hand up the status ladder, for years now, and is, actually possibly the only bringer of confidence to my self which has allowed this voice to be heard at all in the first place. It is the most accessible and direct way of expressing them. So, as well as this critical distance to the possible futility of making works for show in a late capitalist society, I still have hope that the messages in them can help change things, if not, I lose my only present voice.

I’ll do my best, but it’s hard trying to stop an exhibition become a means to an end from whereworking towards one final goal, (as anyone who as put on a major show will resonate with) leads to anti-climax, depression and a defeated-slump straight back into the realism of capitalism – to start right back at the beginning, but with less time than before.”

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Achieving And Getting Things Done (installation)

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I Want None of This (2147x4000)

Inside Silently Chained’s isolated cell

They all smiled gingerly and meekly.
Had they simply forgotten, or had they never known anyway? I guess it is neither.
They’re neither alive nor gone.
Not until the hour of the moon crosses the path of the sun.
Then they will know, and they will realise, what they had known all along.
But for now, it is too late. Too late. Too late?

Inside Parallel Paranoia’s isolated cell

This painting (above) is from a series of works called Where have all the bees gone? Where a parallel universe was created to highlight the importance of bees to the ecosystem and our food supply. Without the bees that pollinate roughly a third of our food crops there would be less food around. The chain reaction could be devastating to the human race and all life on Earth. The disappearance and death of bees or Colony Collapse Dissorder (CCD) as it is somethimes known is puzzling scientists and researchers still with mites and pesticides being the main concerns.

In the parallel universe the bees have been lured into a lab by a mad scientist and experiments have taken place. For some reason the scientist becomes psychically connect to the bees and finds they will do as he wishes. The scientist sets about creating his own Utopian vision. Using the soldier bees to hold the planet under siege and turn things around. Food, shelter and equality for all. Harmony with all living creatures and the landscape the ultimate goal. Organic produce, waste reduction, ocean cleanups, knowledge and wisdom passed on to all. The trouble was the scientist did such a great job that he became some sort of a celebrity. A leader and ultimately was devoured by power and greed. Alan is a dog and he spends most of his time walking around in his horse suit. Alan is the mad scientist’s best friend. The horse suit is an extension of Alan and his status/power and also the scientist’s eccentricity. The portrait of Alan was painted by Mikk for the Scientist in 2027. “I didn’t have a choice!” he said.

Outside the cells. What’s happening out here?

Many of our endeavours are maintained by reliance on oil. Many of our endeavours are purely narcissistic – taught by the system to be so. Reflecting on this can sometimes make one see their own ‘achievements’ in a very different light. And is it really that precious? (this piece was once used in a Seawhite Of Brighton arts suppliers brochure, not black gooey paint, with a look of oil about it, drips down it).

Parallel Paranioa is in the process of filling up a paddling pool with needless consumer plastic waste. In another water filled area (The Pacific Ocean) a floating island of plastic trash twice the size of Texas is currently existing.

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Pandemic-Sheffield! Plague breaks out!!!

Note from self outside the cell to self inside the cell…

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The Bretton Woods conference 2011
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In the summer of 1944 delegates from 44 countries met in the midst of World War 2 to reshape the world’s financial system. The location of the meeting – in rural Bretton Woods, New Hampshire, USA – was designed to ensure that the delegates would have no distractions, and no pressure from lobbyists or congressmen, as they worked on their plans for post-war reconstruction. The New Hampshire Bretton Woods is part of a land grant made in 1772 by royal governor John Wentworth, which he named after his ancestral home (West) Bretton, in Yorkshire, England.

In the summer of 2011, Globalsapiens met in the midst of a global meltdown (financially, environmentally and socially) to throw around their own ideas of making a better world, with changes being needed now more than ever – A HUGE ALTERATION IS NEEDED. The location of the meeting – In rural Bretton woods in West Bretton, Yorkshire, England – is a symbolic gesture: the USA Bretton woods conference reshaped the world after the war, to prevent the problems (financial crisis’s for example) which led to the war; shaping the world for the past 60+ years, and beginning global capitalism as we know it today.

We need a Bretton woods conference now! Not to reinstate capitalism but to figure out how we can move beyond it. The sources of power whom we would usually assign these tasks to have gone insane; a systemic press-ganging on anything which tries to halt the forces of big business – which leaves this conference to people assumed-powerless like us (Globalsapiens). In this mock-version of an all-important conference, we will speak about, and demand a better world; suggesting, through the thoughts and words they never speak, both what these all-important meetings should really be about, and also emphasising what is more important; assigning the decision making to the assumed-powerless.

(clip from video)
Waking up and staying awake has never been easy….
dead end…

what next?…………

Uses of Technological advances in a Commercially-driven society

On one of my days off from work I was going to take my camera out with me, but I lost the heart. It felt as if I would just be adding to the mess which consumer capitalism has created. “Well” I thought “maybe I can just keep them for my own use and not feel compelled to paste them on to the net?” However, I had just had the privilege of viewing the new updated Google maps.

“Technological advances in a consumer society render everything pointless!!” – I very much believe this now, thanks to the Google Empire.

I’m no technophobe; I believe in technology for the benefit of humanity. However, something isn’t quite right; the Utopian visions its advancements seem to suggest are always far from being realised. And instead of making life more fantastic and meaningful, it seems to be making it appear more and more pointless – a feeling which says “been there, done that; nothing great happened; what’s the point of doing it again?” Yet we have to do it again; we are a generation transfixed with the web. We have become glued to technological advances which serve no benefits to us or the advancement of our species, and there is a straight-forward reason for this: the triumph of commercialisation.

Today whilst searching the web, I discovered that something had happened that I had been expecting to happen for a long time: Google had taken over the world!!! OK, well that’s not entirely the truth, but Google Maps does now contain a comprehensive street view of almost every street in the UK. At some point (in the summer of 2009 – certain advertising banners on the street confirm this) Google’s high tech ‘camera-car’ has whizzed around every street sapping every house and every person who happened to be on the street at that moment.

If you were unfortunate enough to be one of these people, Google now has the Commercial rights to let the entire world see your body – it has been kind enough to blur your faces out, as if you were an innocent bystander in Google’s war on uncharted land. These bystanders look towards the camera with helpless bemusement, as if looking up at some medieval conqueror parading victoriously through their streets.

My first reaction to realising that the world-wide-web has got virtual access to my street, was to do something which I usually try to restrain myself from doing; I posted a feed onto my Facebook community wall, highlighting my exasperation to, what felt like, an infringement of some age old right, which had been lost under layers of insane commercial growth. Of course this was counter productive; Facebook (and the other SNS’s) already have the majority of the UK constantly updating their feeds, letting a small-town-sized virtual community know when they are eating, laughing, shitting or crying; what difference would it make if the world could see the windows of the rooms in which they do this?

After an hour or so of no ‘comments’ or ‘likes’ I decided it would be best to delete the feed, after all, I knew that most of my Facebook ‘friends’ would have glanced briefly at the feed and thought this: “John’s a right technophobe; he’s read 1984 far too many times”

Maybe I am little too ‘Over-Orwellian’ with my feelings about what’s happening. The thing is though; we wouldn’t even need some all-seeing power watching over our every move and facial expression; in the 21st century we’re quite happily showing our entire lives to the world anyway – we seem want the world to know everything about us, whether it wants to or not. Even the disconcerted cannot escape the tidal shift towards this way of living; they cannot live without the needs that Internet communication has created.

This use of technological advances is not the be-all and end-all of what it can offer us a species; this usage is intrinsic to a consumer society; free market capitalism can have no other use for technology, but profit-making. There is a difference between a technophobe and somebody who is severely disconcerted with the speed that technology is advancing to solely cater for the needs of a dictatorship of commercialism.

The predatory mechanisms of Consumerism have become ever-more powerful on the internet. Facebook and the other SNSs may not directly sell a certain product but they most certainly function by playing on the individual’s social insecurities and desires, and create an insatiable social void, by using the exact same formulas that can be seen being used by Consumerism to sell products. It may even be apparent that, just like there is a higher intensity of Consumerism in less equal nations, social networking site usage may also be higher as a percentage in more unequal and more hierarchical nations. The UK is one of Europe’s most unequal nations, and has a much higher number of Facebook users (roughly 23 million out of a 60 million total) than other European nations with higher and similar populations but with a more equal distribution of wealth such as Germany (roughly 7 million out of an 80 million total) or France (roughly 15 million out of 65 million total). It is a fact that there is more social anxiety in less equal nations so, obviously, more people will be on social networking sites, feeling compelled to maintain or improve their social status. (On this note, I would recommend that everybody read ‘The Spirit level’ why more equal societies do better, by Kate Pickett and Richard Wilkinson; a book which goes very far in explaining the social consequences caused by inequality).

In the age when to be seen in the looking-glass, to be a celebrity, is an inescapable desire, we are all trying to prove our talents and creations. However, this now endemic desire has been rendered impotent by the culture that spurred them on; the omni-presence of cultural, visual, audio artefacts on the web has brought culture to the brink of valueless, and all that we can do is add to that decreasing. What can a photographer bring to a world which has been covered head-to-toe by the hi-tech camera abilities of Google street view? What can a songwriter bring to a world which consists of possibly over 1 million Myspace music artists also screaming to be heard? No doubt this rant will end up on my blog page; me, just another of millions of ‘me’s’blogging awaytrying to be noticed as having something of worth to contribute; ignoring our doubts that inform us that we are merely just adding to one great mess.

This accessible but futile ‘celebrity fuelled’ dream is working side by side with the advancements of commercial interest on the internet to the ends of making everything, once of value, worth nothing. However, this omnipresence is an ever growing pacification of the masses. Everything is instantly accessible, instantly there to consume; photo’s of everywhere, every song ever, every possible porn fantasy. If we aren’t strong enough to pull away we may already be plummeting ourselves into the completely dilapidated environment described in Brave New World.

The suggestion of an increasingly powerful virtual dominance controlling the mass, sometimes seems too stronger a suggestion to merely dismiss as an irrational fear. And the recent discovery of Google’s surveying of the land, was what recently got me feeling troubled that there is something seriously wrong with the uses of technological advances in our current society. I’m no conspiracy theorist, yet I just cannot see what commercial benefits Google could receive from photographically documenting back-alleys, and cul-de-sacs in small villages. One cannot help but wonder whether Google is being funded to be able undertake such an extensive survey of the nation’s roads. One could argue that the nations with the most extensive Google street-views on the net are the ones with the most national security paranoia, over issues such as terrorism, activism and immigration; The USA, The UK, Spain, France and the Netherlands are some of the few nations which have been extensively surveyed by Google. There is a decreasing level of trust in Capitalist societies, from person to person and from the state to citizen. This is only an unfounded suggestion, yet Google’s extensive surveying seems a little ‘over the top’ for the purpose of allocating advertising space.

Perhaps it isn’t impossible to imagine that Google street view will become a useful tool for the state once the poverty line lifts above most of the population, as climate change/peak oil make resources and jobs much more scarce – these environmental consequences are destined to happen if we carry on ‘business as usual, that’s for sure. The poor will need to be monitored ever more and possibly crushed ever more as their needs become greater. This may sound more like a terrific sci-fi dystopia, but are we not close to this situation already, without the consequences of climate change?
It doesn’t require much imagination to see that the current homogenising forces of consumerism could quite easily be utilised to control the masses in a much more direct and brutal manner; the gradual increasing of surveillance in society seems to be sneakily expanding, almost in-time to suppress the social unrest which would be caused by unchallenged climate change and peak oil. Google street view, presently a consumer accessory could be easily utilised for state surveillance; signing up to social-networking-sites could become compulsory; all those who are already signed up wouldn’t be able to leave. And finally, let’s not forget the structures of the out-of-town shopping complexes; these places would make ideal holding pens/prisons; indeed, my nearest shopping complex ‘Meadowhall’ was actually built with the original intention of it being a prison! You may say I have got a very vivid imagination; I say that I am merely monitoring the tracks of the inevitable.

Without the conspiracy, one thing still remains apparent as I look at the bemused passers-by caught without consent by the camera: the rights of enterprise seem to overrule all other rights; we can’t touch Google, just like we cannot touch the billboards which bombard our minds, however it is allowed to drive down our streets, and look in our windows, all for the apparent benefits to enterprise. Nobody and nowhere seem to be exempt from these rights of passage. More worryingly, few seem concerned, as they passively tell the world-wide-web about there private lives, whilst being satiated by omni-present consumerism to an extent to which the need for democracy doesn’t seem that great.

Sat down in Leeds, near train station

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The terminal fate of the urban population is totalitarianism – It has to be be, and probably has been since the start of the industrial revolution. To realise that we (humans) have become like termites – slaves, acting for the benefit of the super organism, a completely unnatural way for humans to exist – is a necessity when one is finding modern life stressful and pointless, yet cannot figure out why.
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I am in the Yorkshire Metropolis -Leeds- again. This place has become the beating heart of Yorkshire, whether we like it or not. Looking down from a footbridge in the city, at all the cars and work vans hurrying in and out of the centre, one realises how little choice people have in succumbing to the emerging urban organism, caused by industrialisation.
We, 21st century citizens of a nation which as been industialised for nearly 200 years, can have no idea of what another kind of life – one of a small pack like existence – could be like. Yet, many of us have a feeling that something is still wrong. We look at the people who are seemingly OK living in the urban world, and who seem to be reaping the benefits of it, and we wonder “why am I not happy like them? I want to be like them”. Yet we never can be like them, unless we become so unwell, that we reach an utterly unnatural state of accepting this modern world, something which these other people must have unconsciously done at a younger age.

Wednesday, 4 November 2009

index

Against Generalising and Generalisors, and IN Favour of ‘THE THE

When I need self re-assurance that ‘it is OK’ to listen to the same music CD over and over again – in this instance, the music by 1980’s band ‘The The’ – I get the rhetoric’s of others, seemingly ‘wiser’ and more ‘sensible’ than me, about the band
Someone I know, who was a teenager when The The were releasing their material, now only to become one of what I would class as ‘one of Thatchers children’ – endemically business and materialist minded, with liberal views which have no depth and are quite phoney (though I still do like this person) – said of The The “H’mmm it was certainly ‘angry young man’ music!”
In the presence of these people, because of their material superiority (which is possibly sub-conscious) I still bow down to them, and accept their opinions as above mine, and I suppose in flat text it is true that The The’s music was angry and written by a young man (Matt Johnson). However, the generalizing music as ‘Angry young man’ music’, a long side the commonly used ‘Teenage Angst music’ shows that perhaps an common ‘adult’ mindset that is certainly patronizing, but more than anything an indication of acceptance of what one has been told to think by a societies ideology.
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There is nothing I find more frustrating, than when people generalise passionate forms of art in this way, as if now they are grown up with a house and job, these feelings a merely ‘child’s play’. It is an indication that they are ceased to care about what is happening in the world, now that they have joined the established pathways, such as that of making good money.
They have become Blind. They have forgotten what they may once have felt, as they, whilst networking (thought it is called socialising) ‘Veneer’ over each others’ insecurities, by lying and saying that “everything is great!” and “you look fabulous, you are fabulous!”. The falsity of the liberalism, is very dissolutioning to one who actually wants to see a better world. The way this person labelled The The as ‘angry young man music’ gave the impression that “oh, that was just a phase we all go through when we are young!” I think a lot of people who reach a certain age use this idea of a past youthhood riddled with angsty, to deny the real problems of the earth and themselves, in their now older state.
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This seems to be the homogenized world of the 30-50 something’s British middle class. ‘Thatcher’s children’ – as they are rightly named – have a lot to answer for. They have become the thick hedge protecting the system, spouting lush looking but utter tasteless fruits. I don’t think I can ever be part of this class, and I don’t think I’ll ever get to the point when I see The The as ‘angry young man music’: Matt Johnson wrote some brilliantly inciteful lyrics, especially those of ‘Infected’ which was a reaction to the beginning of Thactherism. These lyrics should be taken seriously and not put into a ‘angst’ category, once one feels that them kind of emotions are no longer acceptable within their social circles.
When one has just left their working environment, including the colleagues one works with, one feels the urge to run away – almost physically – in an attempt to grasp the feeling of freedom before it disappears again. It takes the realisation of ones actual situation to catch up with this emotion to thwart this feeling – the realisation that one is no more free outside the workplace than inside.
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The ‘brother and sister’ music albums ‘Kid A’ and ‘Amnesiac’, by the band Radiohead, sum up these feelings for me. To me, they portray both these scenarios – the intense/claustrophobic work place (Kid A) and the equally troubling, but isolated feeling of being stood outside the place after work (Amnesiac). The intense/claustrophobic work place (the mood produced in Kid A) leaves one screaming for an opening in the doors, whilst the latter (amnesiac and the feeling of outside work) gives a equally unfriendly and unfree feeling, but with the cold/harsh fact that freedom, once taken from one inside the factory, is no longer obtainable outside it.

Saturday, 10 October 2009

On Global warming

Nobody – except those who are young, or luckily ignorant of all News stories – can speculate over the truth of global warming anymore; it’s 100% happening and there is 99% chance the climatic problems are going to get worse. Only those with a faith in religion, that is so blind that they cannot see an ounce of reality, could still argue about whether global warming is happening or not.
I have spells when I worry about the affects of global warming less than I would at other times, but I think this is understandable – it isn’t mentally possibly to concern one’s self with something so massive all of the time, without imploding one’s mental make-up.
However, despite what James Lovelock (founder of the Gaia theory) says (and I disagree with barely anything he says, because he is usually unshakably right) – that we are already too late in our actions to stop runaway climate change – we still must try our best!. For what we may learn and gain from this ‘trying’, both socially and scientifically, will help us to co-exist better as a species, and with the planet. Even if our numbers have greatly diminished at this time, and even if few areas of habitable land remaining (as awful as this would be), what we could have learnt, if we tried our best, could help humanity into a ‘re-birth’ with the planet, a time possibly even free of war, hatred and exploitation.
Of course there is still a hope that events so horrible, such as the death of billions of people, will not come true; but this hope is, sadly, very far from being a certainty. However, even if such bad things were to happen, there is still two roads/two choices humanity can chose from in our attempts to keep our species going in a reasonably civilised state: One, as I have mentioned above, a route that would surely lead to the acceptance of each other in what could be a rightful ‘second chance’ for socialism; or route Two – A third world war; as our nations fight for what remains of the earth’s resources and, therefore, we will have learnt absolutely nothing from the whole event that has been the Anthropecene and the outcome of this: disastrous climate change.

11.08.2009

There is still a her who I miss, when my endevours hit a snag. Even if she isn’t identifiable as anybody who exists, or who has ever existed, there is still a her.